


Self Esteem

by reasonablywittyatbest



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Drunkenness, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reasonablywittyatbest/pseuds/reasonablywittyatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is three AM and a very drunk Martin is banging on a very grumpy Douglas'  door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Esteem

The bang bang bang rang through the dark house followed by a piteous and slurred call of "Douglas, Douglas let me in, it's really cold out here and I've forgotten where I live."

Douglas glared at the darkness of his room, across the empty space where is wife usually lay. She was visiting her great aunt or some such nonsense. The banging came again, again followed by Martin's slurred whine.

"Doouuglasss."

Douglas cursed as he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the front door, fully intending to strangle the little fool of a captain for interrupting a perfectly good night's rest with his banging. He flung the door open ready to berate the smaller man, but it seemed Martin had been leaning on the door and fell right at his feet. He stared down at the obviously drunk Martin, who seemed to be very confused about how he ended up on the floor.

"Hello Douglas," he finally managed, though it sounded like even that took a monumental amount of effort to say without to coming out a slurred mess, "I can't believe I found your house, I couldn't even find mine," Douglas could barely stand the ridiculousness of this situation.

"Oh Christ," Douglas sighed and resigned himself to yet again playing nanny to the little man. He grabbed him up off the floor and hauled him to the sofa, unceremoniously plopping him on it. "Sit. Stay."

In the kitchen he hastily set about putting a kettle on, occasionally checking to make sure Martin hadn't drowned in his own vomit; Carolyn would kill him if he let Martin die in his house. When the tea was finally done he enter the living room to find Martin laying across the couch and giggling to himself. Douglas fought the murderous urges, it was three am after all; this was prime sleeping time Martin was stealing with his idiocy. 

After setting the tea on a coffee table and unceremoniously shoving Martin into a sitting position he flopped down beside him. "Drink, now," he said as he shoved a teacup into Martin's hands. Not one of the good teacups though, he wouldn't use those for Martin even if it wasn't three in the morning on a Saturday. A Saturday they had off. One of the few Saturdays they had off. He snapped back to reality as Martin smiled blearily at him

"Drink, now...?"

Douglas knew exactly what Martin wanted him to say. He must be either drunker or more foolish than Douglas could have guessed if he thought that this was a good time to pull rank. "Right, ok, time for you to go, I'll call a cab." But after he set down the teacup and was getting to stand up Martin threw himself across his lap.

"Nooo, don't maaake me gooooo" The smaller man wailed, his body half curled in Douglas' lap, and his arms wedged around his waist.

"oh god, what are you doing?"

"It's horrible!"

"oh gods what are, are you crying? Stop that."

"I just can't handle it anymore."

He stared down at the teary eyed captain in his lap utterly flabbergasted, he had no idea what would have brought this on.

"Ok then, what's wrong Martin?" He did his best humoring Martin voice. His attempts to dislodge Martin from his lap were failing, apparently he had underestimated the strength of the little captain.

Martin sniffled a few times, bighting his lip, before he responded "Nobody respects me, I just can't make them, I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I mean I am captain for goodness sakes!" Douglas took a couple second to compose himself, thoughts of lost sleep drifting back into his head.

"Now Martin, I'm sure you're just imagining this." he patted the captains shoulder.

"You don't respect me." Martin pouted up at him, still firmly placed on Douglas' lap, too drunk to even realize that the lap of your first officer was not a place to be curled up.

"Yes, of course I do," Douglas hoped that his patronizing tone didn't penetrate too deeply into Martin's skull. In his head he was already coming up with ways to get revenge for this entire event.

"No you don't." Martin's voice was petulant now.

"Of course I do, I think you're a wonderful captain." He could tell his words were not making a difference, and desperate times called for desperate measures. He fortified his pride with thoughts of sleep and started in " oh you're a wonderful captain, I mean think how many times we would have crashed if you let me skimp on safety, oh yes you run a wonderfully safe plane," Douglas was pretty sure Martin would miss the sarcasm that was slipping into this, "And think, how many pilots can claim to have put themselves through their coursework? Very impressive indeed." he stopped, practically holding his breath, just praying Martin would take the bait.

Martin was silent for longer than Douglas thought necessary, he was cooking up his next bit of flattery when Martin broke into a ridicules grin, "Yeah, I guess so."

Douglas felt relief flooding through him. "There you go, ok then let's get you out of my house." He made to get up, but Martin didn't move. "Martin... Martin?" He shook the shoulder of the man in his lap. Nothing. He tried to dislodge the skinny arms from around his waist. Nothing. Martin had fallen asleep with a death grip on his waist.

Douglas spent the rest of the night on the couch with his drunk incompetent superior officer on his lap plotting his revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a chat I had with my friend  
> Found here: http://reasonablywittyatbest.tumblr.com/post/20397015824/on-slash-and-cabin-pressure


End file.
